


Nordic Keys

by DocHolliday



Category: Fairy Tail, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Crack, Gen, Short Chapters, Somewhat, dug this out of the grave, i think, just swearing, much wow, not very serious, old story, so much ooc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 20:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9088084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DocHolliday/pseuds/DocHolliday
Summary: You can sometimes say that Iceland is paranoid. There is a reason.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Very old story. Repost from Fanfiction. Will have errors and the such.

Chapter 1) Norway Needs to Stop Leaving Books at Icey's.

  
  


It was a quiet day at Iceland's house. No one really visiting, no one really talking, it was a day of relaxation and tranquility, even Mr. Puffin was relaxing. All in all, nothing had really happened that day.

 

Iceland was on edge. 

 

Quiet days do  _ not  _ happen at his house. Sure, there were a few days that nothing happened, but that was  _ after  _ something happened in the morning. These 'somethings' were usually one of the following; Norway coming over, Denmark coming over, Denmark coming over drunk, Norway  _ and  _ Denmark coming over drunk, Finland coming over drunk, any of the Nordics coming over drunk, Sealand coming over anyways, Hungary coming over with Hong Kong and pushing the Asian boy into him and taking pictures for some unfathomable reason  or Mr. Puffin was being a bitch. The last one was always the hardest.

 

And before you ask, no, he was not an antisocial person that he'll cut off from the rest of the world like Japan or North Korea (They don't talk about that), but the rest of the Nordics were always worried about their 'baby' brother. 

 

It wasn't like he was grownup, goddamnit! 

 

Sure, he  _ does  _ look like an underage teenager. Sure he  _ does  _ act like he is still going through puberty, but Prussia is worst! It's not his fault that the bars always ask him 'how old are you, really?' questions.

 

At least he doesn't play with  _ imaginary  _ fairy tale critters. He has a puffin. He has a strong puffin? Mighty puffin? 

 

Still sounds wimpy whatever way you say it. 

 

That is not the moral of this monologue anyways, so let's ignore how wimpy puffins sound. Norway plays with fairy tale creatures! If that doesn't sound like something a five-year old  _ girl  _ would do, then how about going over to England's house and doing  _ tea party  _ **with** the  _ imaginary friends _ ? 

 

Yes, it was proven. America barged in one day, paused, then started snapping pictures as he walked slowly out the door. Then he barged into Iceland's house and asked him if he knew about this. 

 

Sadly (but at the same time happily), he did not. 

 

The monologue is getting off track here, isn't it? Again.

 

Anyways, Iceland was currently sitting on his couch, drinking coffee, and watching the door at 7:00 at night, waiting for a drunk family member to barge in. And no, it usually isn't paranoia, it happens at 10:00 at night sometimes. When he's sleeping. But it is usually in the morning. 

 

So as he is waiting, he notices a book on his coffee table. That is weird, as he doesn't have any books on his coffee table. And it's an old book too, like Scandinavia old. Older than him. And that is old. 

 

He sets his coffee down on coaster before picking up the book. There is no title on the worn cover, so he flips to a random page. 

 

"Se jama she'd do susen okkskann?" Iceland speaks the words in a slow and confused tone. 

 

The tomb glowed in a blue light and Iceland dropped it. " **Hvað í fjandanum!** " *

 

The light steadily grew brighter, and Iceland found himself unable to move. Sure, he wanted to run. Even Mr. Puffin had fluffed up his feathers and was frozen.

 

The mantra was 'ohshitiknewsoemthinglikethiswouldhappenohshitohshitwhatthehelldididoshitohshit'.

 

Then five minutes later it was '...is the light moving, or is that a trick of my eyes?'

 

I did say steadily people! 

 

And that's a synonym for slow. 

 

It was pretty slow. Maybe pretty slow isn't a good analogy, imagine a snail moving in half-frozen molasses. Then imagine that the snail is dead. That's about how fast the light from the book was moving. 

 

Iceland decided to move his mouth, "Ehh... The word (Well, sound) flipped a switch and the light cascaded over the whole house and consumed Iceland and his puffin. 

 

What Icey didn't know (because it is logical to pass out from stress [which the half-albino would never admit]) is that one other person said the exact same thing, the exact same time and pretty much screwed up the whole world. 

 

Fuck you Norway and your shitty book!


	2. Chapter 2

 

Chapter 2) Keys? What keys?

  
  


It was dark. Ok, it was also humid, warm and smelt like the inside of a fermented shark, but it was still dark. Also, since his room did not smell like this, nor did any room in his house, he opened his lavender eyes. 

 

A wooden and dirt roof met his eyes with a small lamp hanging from the ceiling, giving the whole room a eerie glow. Pondering this, he sat up and saw it was a small bedroom with a few essentials such as a bookcase, a desk and a wardrobe. There was a bed of course, he was sitting on it, and a chair beside his bed with a jacket. His jacket.

 

Worried, he looked down and saw that he still had a white shirt on. 

 

"You shouldn't be up." A female voice told him and he looked to where he swear wasn't a doorway before. Blonde hair, big boobed and doe-faced, she looked like a hooker that had a bad day. 

 

What? He's not going to lie, she does look like a hooker. From Hooters. It's that bad.

 

"Ahh..." He just made a confused sound, looking everywhere but the woman's chest. Or the woman herself. 

 

The woman chucked, "It's alright dearie," she moved closer, holding a tray of food. She sat down of the wooden chair, "I brought you some food, I wasn't sure if you would wake up." 

 

"Th-thank you." Iceland stuttered as the woman placed the food on his lap. When he saw that there were chopsticks, he scowled. Stupid him for not taking chopstick lessons from Hong Kong. 

 

The woman didn't seem to notice his frustration as he picked up the chopsticks. "I'm Brigit, my guild and I found you lying on the road. What happened to you?" Blunt and straight to the point. 

 

"On the road..?" The white-haired boy asked before jabbing a piece of meat and eating it. Cow, the meat was cow.

 

"Just outside of Magnolia." Brigit nodded. What the hell is a Magnolia? Shouldn't she mean Mongolia? The confusion must've shown on his face. "You, you don't remember?" 

 

A cover story! "Remember what?" Iceland hopes his acting skills are up to par. 

 

"How you got to the road." Brigit told him, as if he would remember something.

 

"Should I?" Greaaat, he sounds like Norway! That takes that off the bucket list! 

 

Brigit leaned forward, "What do you remember?" 

 

Shiiiiiiit. "Uh... I have an older brother, a pet puffin and...my first name is Emil?" He ended the steady monologue with a question, as if he wasn't sure. Granted, he was sure as hell and justed wanted to keep his acting skills in check. Also to get information on what the hell was happening. 

 

All he needed now was an alibi and if he played his cards right, he might just get one. 

 

"What about your keys?" The hooker asked. 

 

"Keys? What Keys?" No seriously, what keys? When he touched the book, he didn't have any keys. Crap! His front door wasn't locked! And where was Mr. Puffin?

 

"Your Celestial Keys." Brigit explained, handing over a small case, "Though I've only ever seen gold or silver keys before, these ones are pretty cool." She opened the case and five bronze key-shaped metals were there. Each was intricately designed, twists and small gems of all colours embedded. He picked the box up and took a key out at random. 

 

He studied the key and saw small fairies, each one very elegant and different, at the top holding a pail of water upside down. The water stopped at their feet and a long strip of metal that had nothing on it followed. The tip was made to look like a cross. 

 

Iceland's voice hitched as he realised something. 

 

A hand to his shoulder startled him and the hooker's face smiled, "Call me if you need anything Emil. I'll just be right outside the door." And Brigit left, but not before making a door out of the wall. Her hand glowed a sickly yellow as the door appeared. Iceland moved the food huffily to place the box on his lap. 

 

He placed the key in his hand beside him and picked up another one. A crown with red and black gems was on the top with a small chain on the end, followed by the same shaft with nothing on it and finally, an axe-shaped end. It was like a miniature version of Denmark's axe, only with the crown staying the same height, but flattened. 

 

Iceland leaned back on the bed with a loud 'thunk'. He decided to create a list of things he knew;

 

1) He was not on Earth, no one makes wooden doors out of a dirt wall with a big ring around it with weird shapes. 

 

2) He had to fake amnesia. 

 

3) He had no idea where Mr. Puffin was

 

4) He turned his brothers (related or not) and nephew (Finland insisted) into keys. 

 

Why the hell would anyone make a book that turns people into keys?! Isn't that abuse of some sort? And how would he get became home?! Would people think he's a kid here? And what is with that mark on her hip? HOW DOES HE GET NORWAY TO FIX THIS?

 

This sounds like an anime... 

 

A really bad one too. Sorta like Naruto. 

 

Iceland threw off the covers and got out of the cot. He took his jacket from the chair and slung it on. He pushed all five of his keys, well, not really  _ his keys  _ per say, into his pocket. He started to walk to the door and he knocked on it. Brigit opened it the next second. 

 

"Oh! You're up," the surprise in her green eyes were noticeable. Then she squinted, "You're a lot taller than you let on. And younger too." 

 

He blinked. 

 

She waved her hand, "Not that it matters," the hooker grabbed his hand and started to pull him out of the room, "Come on, I'll show you around the guild!" 

 

As Emil was pulled along, he couldn't help but ask, "What's a guild?" 

 

"I forgot you don't know anything!" Brigit suddenly stopped and spun around, almost making the boy run into her. "See, the country we live in is called Fiore. Fiore has tons of magic around! It's all around you, we're breathing in it! Are you still with me?" Iceland nodded, shocked that he was in a different country. One with magic, no less! "Ok, good. In Fiore, there are two types of wizards; Caster Type, which magic is expelled from the body and Holder Type, which you need an outside source to use. The easiest way to tell them apart is that Caster type doesn't need a vessel to use, while Holder needs one.

 

"You classify as a Holder Type because of your keys. I classify as a Caster Type because I can create wood from nothing in simple terms." Brigit paused, "You good there? You're looking a little pale." 

 

"I-I'm fine." Iceland stuttered. Holy cow, this is worst than the time Denmark gave him the 'Birds and the Bees' talk while he was drunk. Or that time he found puffin and tried to convince Norway that if he could have him. 

 

"Great!" Brigit smiled and clapped her hands together, "When wizards form groups, they are called 'Guilds'. Wizards of guilds take jobs for jewels, our currency by the way, by defeating various monsters to cleaning a house. There are three types of guilds; A legal guild, which follows a strict set of rules and guidelines set and approved by a magic council, a dark guild, which is considered a 'criminal organization' by the magic council and an independent guild, a guild that isn't approved by the magic council, but isn't considered a criminal organization. They pretty much can do whatever the hell they want as long as the magic council doesn't disapprove. We're in a guild called Eisenwald, the best guild ever.

 

"The Magic Council is a bunch of old geezers that believe that they can do anything they want and control everyone. Plus all their rules suck ass and are all stuck up." Brigit explained in detail after that on why the Magic Council was horrible, then started to walk away after a few minutes. Iceland paused before walking next to her. 

 

Unlike most of his brothers, he liked to know both sides of the story from as many people as possible before he acted. Norway, Sweden and Denmark would always act on a whim because of their Viking years, Finland would sometimes wait a little, but he was also more of a 'shoot first, ask later' person and Sealand was a little too young to make decisions like that. 

 

It's why he likes staying neutral. And why he didn't have a military.

 

"...and so that's why in a few weeks time, we're going to use Lullaby and kill the guild masters!" Brigit stopped once again, looking over his shoulder at him, giving him a pointed look, "You'll help us, right?" 

 

He a frozen, metaphorically. He swore he looked like a gaping fish. 

 

"It's totally fine if you don't want to, but at least come with us to see how horrible they are." She insisted. "After all, it's a bit rude of me to say that when you've only been up for an hour." After a few hesitant moments, he nodded. "Great! Let me introduce you to our strongest members! Our guild leader was arrested, so he can't really meet you at the moment." 

 

She pushed open another door he swore wasn't there before and they came into a small cantina. "HELLO EVERYONE!" She yelled into the room and a bunch of men and women turned to them, quieting down. The hooker, he can't really call her a hooker anymore as it seemed  _ all  _ the women and some men dressed and looked like that, pull him beside her, "The guy we found woke up and his name is Emil! Be nice to him as he remembers nothing!" 

 

Emil gulped as all the guild members turned to him and looked at him hungrily. 

 

"And no takin', he's underage!" A few groans sounded, making Emil even more nervous. "I know, I know, he's cute, but he's still a kid! We're a guild of Assassins, not pedofiles!" Emil looked at Brigit like 'what the fuck..?' "Also, where's the talking bird?" 

 

"Here!" Some random member yelled, before holding a cage. Mr. Puffin sat inside, tape over his beak and looking like he was ready to kill someone. Or pluck them to death, which ever came first. Mr. Puffin's eyes narrowed at him. 

 

"Good! Let him out!" The guild members looked at her like she was crazy. "DO IT!" The door on the cage opened and Mr. Puffin came rushing at him. Iceland caught the bird and carefully unwrapped the tape from his beak. 

 

"Tough guy, why the fuck did you allow them to stick me in a cage. A CAGE! Do you know how degrading that is! Why didn't you wake up asshole when I wanted ya to!" Mr. Puffin yelled at him, flapping wildly from in front of his arms. "These guys are a bunch of sissy ass pussies, had to throw me in a cage and tape my beak! MY BEAK! They couldn't handle all this manliness rollin' off me in waves!" Mr. Puffin finally took a break on his shoulder, "I don't mean to be rude, who am I kidding, hell yeah I do! I have more macho than all of these posers combined! I can take them all out, just give me the word Tough Guy!" 

 

"SHUT THAT BIRD UP!" Someone yelled.

 

"I'LL SHUT YOU UP ASSHO-" Iceland placed a hand lightly on Mr. Puffin's head. 

 

"I think they get it Mr. Puffin." He said in a calm voice. 

 

"Ya'll just lucky Tough Guy's not allowing me to kick all your asses to next week!" Mr. Puffin declared, but the whole guild just laughed. Mr. Puffin growled as best as a bird could. 

 

"Aww, Emil, that's sweet!" Brigit surprised him again, "Your bird is defending you!" 

 

"Oi! I am not a bird, I am a Puffin!" The bird, because no matter how you look at it, a puffin  **is** a bird, fluffed up his feathers. "And I am not sweet!" 

 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." Brigit waved it off, "Emil, this is the common area for weaker mages. I'll take you to our hot shot area. You better make a good impression." 

 

Iceland/Emil gulped. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3) What's Happening?

 

In the month that Iceland had lived with Eisenwald, he had noticed one thing; they were all insane. Brigit was always around him, annoying, but he was glad for her. Girls and guys alike look at him like he was a delicacy. 

 

And frankly, it scared him. 

 

The room he woke up in was claimed as his and every night, Brigit would remove the door. Sure, it made escape hard, but by the sound of footsteps stopping at where the door was, he was honestly relieved. And why would he escape? He got good food, flushing toilets and a free bodyguard, what more could he want? He got almost free access to everything, except for the job board and outside. Those was off limits. 

 

The top guild members were slightly more sane, but the stand-in leader was creepy as hell. He got along great with them, and 'get along great' simply means that he would listen to them explain how the world works here. Kageyama was often the one who explained the most to him, he was a little more 'down to earth'. Or Earthland, stupid name taking Earth's name and ripping it off. 

 

As with his keys, he doesn't know what to do with them. Brigit told him to go to the twins, who liked holder type weapons. Iceland would, but he frankly does not have motivation. 

 

At least, he didn't. He was reading a book when Kageyama and Brigit picked him by his arm pits and dumped him at the twins feet, telling them to 'Teach Emil to summon his keys'. 

 

So here he was, Norway's key in hand, with two identical expectant faces. He was already told how to do it, he just need to do it. 

 

Easier said then done. 

 

First; He had to know a call name. Each key, no matter what, has one. 

 

Second; He needed to feel the spirit and command them to come forward. 

 

Third; he had to visualize the spirit standing in front of him.

Fourthly; He had to make a contract with the spirit.

 

And Lastly; he planned to mess up until he got to his room. A lot. 

 

And that's what he did, pretending to get increasingly frustrated as it didn't 'work'. He knew Norway's call(after a good two hours of meditating), but he would always change a word to the call to mess it up. Mr. Puffin had already been filled in on what has happened and was currently watching with a small smirk on his face. The twins watched in boredom before they called it off after three hours and told him to try again tomorrow. 

 

So they walked him to his room and left. Assholes.

 

A few hours later, when Brigit removed the door, he got out of bed and grabbed Norway's key. 

 

"Open, Gate of the Troll, Noregur!" Iceland called, not loudly, but loud enough for Norway to hear. A bright light came from the key and wind blew his coat back. He is so lucky his room doesn't have windows. 

 

When the light and dust disappeared, his brother was standing there, looking disgruntled and slightly disturbed. His outfit had stayed the same, in fact, everything was the same as the last time he saw him. 

 

"Big Brother!" Iceland smiled at him and hugged him. The surprised look on his face was worth it. 

 

"Iceland..?" Norway asked as he looked down on his brother. "Call me Big Brother again." 

 

"B-big brother," Iceland whispered into the croak of his brother's neck. Once again, Norway was surprised. Iceland finally pulled away. "You need to stop leaving books at my place!" 

 

"...I didn't leave any books at your place." Norway said in his monotone voice. "Iceland, what's going on?" 

 

Iceland took a breath, "I saw a weird book on my coffee table, flipped to a random page and read it out loud. Then I woke up in this room and found out that I'm in another dimension and you guys turned into keys." Iceland held out Norway's key, which he took and looked it over. "And apparently magic is normal around here and... And I-I'm scared-d." Iceland seemed to curl in on himself. 

 

"Mr. Puffin is the only one not to turn into a key and I-I'm faking amnesia with my human name because I d-don't know how things work around here, so now there was lots of weird wizards around here, a-and I don't know how to defend myself because m-most of them are looking at me weird. A-and I'm not in a good place, 'cause they take jobs where-where they kill people and in eight days I-I'm suppos' to go with them to see them kill a bunch of guild masters—" Iceland was cut off by Norway pulling him close again and rubbing his white hair. He lead them to the bed.

 

For a long while, Norway just rubbed his little brother's head as he calmed down. When the younger nation was relaxed, Norway asked, "How long has it been since you been here?" 

 

Iceland sniffed, "A month..." 

 

"We've been in another dimension for a few days." Norway told him, still rubbing Emil's hair. "It's alright Iceland. We all make mistakes." 

 

"Not you. Not you, Denny, Swed or Finny. You guys don't make big mistakes like this." Iceland muttered, getting sleepier by the minute as his small magical capacity started to dissipate. 

 

"We did Iceland." Norway pulled the younger nation onto his lap. He got the younger nation to look at him in the eyes, "We didn't teach you to how to defend yourself because we never thought that something like this would happen. So I think it's time to fix that, alright?" 

 

Iceland nodded sleepily, lavender eyes dropping. 

 

"I'll tell the others for you, alright?" Iceland nodded again, not comprehending, and Norway kissed his younger brother's forehead lovingly as Emil fell to sleep. Tucking him in, Norway watched his innocent brother's face before he felt himself disappear. 

 

When Norway could see clearly again, he was being shaken by a Dane. Norway pulled on Denmark's tie to stop him. 

 

"Wh're d'dya go?" Sweden asked from where the smaller nation was choking Denmark. "Ya lef' for ah f'w sec'nds." 

 

"To see Iceland." Norway explained the whole scenario to them, seeing the faces of his fellow nations change as he spoke. He explained how freak out Iceland was, how scared he was, and how long it's been for him. "For him, the only way he can see us is if he uses these things called 'Keys'. He also call me a Troll." 

 

"Poor Icey." Denmark commented sadly. He perked up instantly, "DON'T WORRY ICEY, BIG BROTHER DENMARK'S GUNNA—" whatever else he was going to say was lost as Norway knocked out Denmark with a fist that faintly resembled Troll's. 

 

"So, are we finally going to train him in fighting? But doesn't he have no military?" Finland asked, head tilted. "How would his boss react? Won't he be mad?" 

 

"There's men and women looking at him like they want to have sex with him." Norway deadpanned. 

 

"They all shall die." Finland gained a fire in his eyes and venom in his voice as he raised a clenched fist. Even Sweden looked weirded out by this new Finland and started to scoot away slowly as a dark aura surrounded the normally cheerful nation. 

 

Ya know, my slaves-readers, I mean readers, this has gotten dark really fast. Time to fix that! 

 

"Mama! Papa! Look what I found!" Sealand ran up to them, holding a snowman looking thing with Beady eyes and a cone on his noise. "I named him Mr. Minor! Apparently he's a Cestial Spirit called Canis Minor and has tons of brothers and sisters! Can I keep him, pleeeeeease?" 

 

"Ya mean 'C'lest'al'" Sweden corrected. 

 

"That's what I said! So, can I keep him? Please?" Sealand gave him puppy dog eyes and a pouty lip. "I'll take care of him, like my Goats!*" 

 

Finland looked at Sealand, "You own a goat?" 

 

"Yep! And his name's Pickles. Then there's Allie, Mama, Snowy, Cat, Cow and Dixon! They are Pickles' herd, but Pickles is mine." Sealand beamed. "So can I keep Mr. Minor?" 

 

"Plue-Plue!" The Canis Minor seemed to agree with the arrangement. 

 

"See! Even Mr. Minor agrees!" 

 

"Alright." Finland sighed, "Why don't you go and get to know Mr. Minor better?" 

 

"Great idea!" And Sealand darted off to play with his new friend. 

 

Finland turned to Norway, "So, how long has it been for Icey?" 

 

"A month or so since he got teleported here." Norway told them. "1 hour in Iceland's dimension is 1 minute in ours. Meaning, one day for Iceland is 24 minutes for us. One day for us in here is 2 and a half weeks for him."

 

"Well that's shit." Denmark finally woke up, "So, how did he call you?" 

 

"'Open Gate of the Troll, Noregur.'" Norway recited. "And if my calculations are correct, he should be calling one of us again in a few seconds." 

 

"Please not Sealand," Finland begged, "We'll tell him about it later. Just not now." 

 

"Oh, and tell him your human name." Norway said, "It's simply easier. Plus we change it about a hundred times." 

 

"Greattt- Someone fill me in?" Denmark gave a sheepish grin. 

 

\----------------

 

"Alright, try the key again." One of the twins, he didn't know which, told him. They didn't even give him their names, the bastards!

 

Emil gave a breath and took out Norway's key once again. He wondered if this was even a good idea. Calling his brother in front of these two lunatics. Wait, three- Kagiyama is in the wall. Sneaky Fucker. 

 

"Open, Gate of the Troll, Noregur!" Iceland 'commanded'. He just hoped that this worked. 

 

The same bright light and smoke happened when he first called on his brother, but, something was different. There was more wind, as in, he was being pushed back instead of a ruffling breeze, and he couldn't define the shape. 

 

When the dust finally settled, Norway was standing there, staring at a wall. And "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WEARING!?" 

 

For those who have watched an anime called Magi the Kingdom of Magic, imagine Alibaba's Djinn Equip in blues and purples, and without the sword and wild hair.

 

For those who don't, imagine a skimpy belt that held up three blue pieces of fabric with white hip hop pants that ended underneath his knees with only a small strap from shoulder to opposite waist and a huge necklace that goes down to his chest. On his hands were what seemed like bigger, stronger troll hands that were sharp all the way to his elbows. His hair had grown longer to what it was like in his Viking days, tied at the nape of his neck, and...pffffffff... Norway had a little crown on his head that ran under his hair. 

 

If it wasn't for his bare male abdomen, you could almost mistake him for a woman.

 

Norway turned to Emil, who was looking quite freaked out. The twins were even freaked out; Emil should have only been able to call the spirit, not keep it in this world for a few minutes. How strong was this guy? 

 

"...Call me big brothe—"

 

"HELL NO!" Emil interrupted before Norway could finish his sentence. 

 

"Okay, Emil—" Another twin, or was it the the same one? Who knows. "Now in order to make a contract, just ask him what days you can call him. Be in command—" 

 

"Any day you want is good for me." Norway interrupted, "Keeps me away from the stupid ass." 

 

"Ah, alright, now, uh, ask what he would like to be called by, most spirits like to be called a certain thing that isn't their call—" 

 

Once again, Norway interrupted, "Call me Lukas. Or big brother." And Norway disappeared. Iceland collapsed from using too much magic. 

 

"That guy was an ass." Kageyama shadow-walked out of the wall, surprising the twins. "Is this the first time he summoned a spirit?" 

 

"First time here," 

 

"We don't know how strong of a wizard he was,"

 

"Before he lost his memories." The twins finished one after the other. "But he has potential." 

 

"Good," Kageyama smirked, "Erigor will be pleased." 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4) Iceland has seen all. 

"Open, Gate of the Shooter, Finnland!" Emil told, because really, he can't command for shit. Brigit had left for a job, which she wouldn't say what it was, leaving him all alone to defend himself. Norway hadn't really kept up with his promise, but Iceland can't really hold any of his brothers in the real world for more than 10 minutes, so that sucks. But at least he doesn't collapse anymore and can call on another one of his brothers five minutes later.

Norway had also said that the reason why all their outfits changed was because this man called a Soul King had found them and they had to explain to him why they were there. They couldn't really tell any lies to him, (Sweden tried) so Mr. King decided to help them, and made them blend in a bit more. Completely human-looking Spirits were rare, but it'll have to do. 

Also; time was messed up as fuck there. Some times it was 1 minute in Celestial World (CW) equals 1 minute in EarthLand (EL), other can times it changes to 1 minute in CW equals 3 months in EL. It changes that drastically in a second sometimes. 

As he called, Finland, or Tino as he was suppose to call him, poofed into existence. Unlike the rest of the Nordics, Finland had a plain white dress shirt with cuffs, a green, yellow and black checkered buttoned vest, black khakis and black dress shoes. His hair had stayed the same, but aviator goggles had nestled its way into his hair. A bright smile was on his face most of the time. 

But now wasn't most of the time, as Finland was holding a sniper rifle point blank at one man's head, "Are you bothering Icey?" Tino's eyes had a fire in them and a dark aura was around him. 

Yeah, Norway had told him that there were people hitting on him. This is why he never brings any friends over. 

"Woah man!" The random grunt backed off, "Who the hell are you?" 

"I said," Tino pushed the gun into the man's forehead, "Are you botherin' Emil?" 

"I just grabbed his ass!" The man said, "He's cute! Cute things don't last long 'round here!" A forest green magic circle surrounded Tino's Barrel. 

"Repeat that please. I didn't catch it." Each word was punctuated by the magic circle doubling in circumference until it was as big as the shooter.

"NOTHING!" The random grunt ran away as fast as he could. A gunshot rang out and the tip of the man's hair on his head was gone. 

"That's what I thought." Finland grunted before spinning around to Emil, "Icey! Just call me whenever some ass shovel decides to pick on you! See ya!" And the perky nation poofed out of existence again. Sometimes, he's as scary as Russia...

His brothers were also getting acting lessons...screw them. 

"Hey Emil!" Erigor yelled from across the room, "Get your ass over here!" Suppressing a sigh, he trudged over there. As he got nearer, the acting-master (Erigor) threw a fabric at him. "Your hair stands out too much. Put that on." 

Frankly, it was a cloak. It was black, and that's all he could do to describe it, there was nothing on it. Iceland had worn a good share of them in his day, so he knew how to put one on. God he sounds like an old man. Following the insane person, he threw the hood over his head and stuffed his keys into his pocket. 

Sure, he could lose them, but he was careful. He wanted to get a chain while he was out and hang them around his neck. He just hopes they aren't more than 20000 jewel. It's all he could scrounge up. (I.E; pickpocketed) "Hey Tough guy! Wait up!" Mr. Puffin flew and sat on his shoulder, completely comfortable. 

Only the top members were there waiting outside. Iceland had been dreading this day. He's not scared of death, (he can't die(Prussia proved that)) but these were innocents, and frankly, everyone scares him here. Not as much as Finland, mind you. Finland is scary when angry.

"Alright! I told you I would fix his hair!" Erigor claimed, pointing back at the teen. 

"You placed a cloak on his head," Kageyama pointed, "How is that fixing it?" 

"Yeah, what if his hood comes off?" A fat, but large dude asked. 

"We'll deal with it when it happens." Erigor said, while Iceland noticed something in his tone. He wasn't finished talking. "Also, I'll deal with something right now." Quick as the wind, Erigor grabbed Iceland's hand from underneath the cloak, twisted it so Iceland was at an odd angle and stamped something on the palm of his hand. Mr. Puffin squawked as Kageyama grabbed the poor bird by its throat. The stamp gave him a sharp burst of pain, which made him gasp. The stamp continued to make a dull throb. A few seconds later, Erigor dropped the boy on the ground, making Iceland hit his head on a rock. 

"Should've done that when ya first woke up." Erigor commented absently. Bending down, Erigor grabbed Emil by his shirt and lifted him up, the albino wrapping his hands around the wrist of his attacker. His eye told him he knew his secret "You are a part of this plan, whether you like it or not. Any betrayal, and we'll kill ya, and your bird. Got that?" 

Choking, Emil nodded rapidly and he was dropped back to the ground, coughing. 

"Now come on, we got work to do." The rest of the mages were snickering or outright laughing at him. A sharp kick to his stomach sent him flying a few feet. Iceland growled in his mind, trying to ignore all the scratches on his face and the dull throbbing on his palm. And the obesities that Mr. Puffin was yelling.

\------------

Iceland shivered in his seat, pulling his cloak closer to him. He knew this was coming, and yet, why would they even bring him? Oh, right. Brigit. He never talked to anyone, so why were the acting mean? 

Right, stupid question. They're Assassins. They are all mean. 

He just wished Nor was there, because he would've sucker-punched Erigor right in the face. Finny would've stopped him with a bullet, Sweden and Denmark would've both kicked his ass. But he can't do that, so now he has to deal with an aching throb on his palm that's steadily growing stronger, not weaker. 

The mark was faint, but steadily growing darker as it burned more and more. 

Mr. Puffin couldn't do anything but huddle under his cloak and not move. He was pretty sure animals weren't allowed on a train. Wait- the talking blue cat doesn't count, all talking animals didn’t seen to count. He thinks this because he knows a upright chicken.

Iceland also prefers not to listen to whatever they are saying (even if he is suppose to), due to the weird shit, but thats kinda hard because they were all loud and obnoxious like America. 

"We've Reached Onibus Station! We've Reached Onibus Station!" The intercom blared as the train smoothed into a stop. Iceland stayed on and tried to look inconspicuous. It wasn't hard to do, as there was no one on here that really cared. He was the only one on this cart. Well, not the only one. There's this pink haired guy with really bad motion sickness and looks like Denmark after a couple bottles of Black Pig, which is disgusting.* Tino also likes it, but he likes everything. 

Why Icey is on this train before the rest of the asses? Spying. Transported him to Hargeon by a blackmailed traveller and he's been on the train since then. 7.Hours. 

That is torture!

Soon the train moved again and the Mr. Shadow-Bender came into the cabin. He stumbled to his feet before he could get him and went a few seats behind the flame-tail. Flame-tail? Where did that come out?

"Well, look here," Kageyama mocked, "A Fairy Tail wizard?" He leaned against a chair closer to him, "How's the guild treating you these days? Still worth sticking around for?" 

The boy asked 'what?' Simply because he didn't hear him. Iceland looked on passively before deciding that it was much better not to get involved. 

Gods, he is acting like a sissy-woman man-boy. Yes, woman, as its sounds better than girly. That, and he didn't want Denmark to be right for once...or Mr. Puffin, but the bird has more derogatory terms.

Kageyama ground the foot in the salmon-mander's face-What is with these weird terms- "Don't act all high and mighty just because you're a legal guild Mr.Fairy." That sentence had so much grammar wrong with it. Wait–Noregur said that there were only girl fairies. "You guys just blindly follow the magic council, you know what you look like to us? Harmless little flies." 

Mr. Fairy (as Emil doesn't know what to call him) pushed Kageyama off and fires coated his hands as he stood up. "Guess I hit a nerve, hmm?" 

"You—" Then, abruptly-but expected- the fire went out and Mr. Fairy started to look green in the face. 

"What magic is that?!" Kageyama mocked, "let me show you how it's done!" A purple magic circle appeared underneath Mr. Asshole-of-the-Week's feet and three string-like tentacles ("Kinky" —Denmark) and smacked Mr. Pink-haired-Flame-hands away a couple feet. "It's all in the follow through." Kageyama McAss bragged a matter of factly. 

("Even more Kinky." —Danish Guy

("What are you watching? Why is there a TV and why is Iceland in it? —Norway

("Shh, there's some black-haired guy that looks like some character off of an anime that has shadow tentacles. —Santa

("...Why..?" —Norway

("Shut 'p 'n' sit do'n. We're 'bout ta see Shikam'ru's ass g't kic'ed." —Sweden

("Papa, Shikamaru is in Naruto!" —Sealand

("Dun't care" —Su-san.)

"That... Magic..." Mr. Fairy seemed either to A) don't believe it, or B) have no idea what the Fuck it is. Emil's rooting for B. Kageyama just chuckled before the train slowed to a complete stop in less than half a mile, and if you know train physics, they don't come to a complete stop for ten miles at least! 

Iceland grabbed ahold of the chair was the other two in the cabin went tumbling. A skull flute rolled onto the ground by Mr. Senor Fancy Pants’ feet.

"What is that?" Mr. Fairy asked as he got up. 

"You saw it-" 

"That's enough outta you!" Once again, Fairy's fists became flame. ::*::Attach Epic Move Scene Here ::*::

When Iceland came to a moment later, he noticed that 1) Mr. Puffin was gaping as he hovered (HOLY FU—) 2) His hood was off and 3) He looked like someone and punched him through a bar, a mountain, a wall and Denmark's trophy case of beer (879 different brands and counting)* , unintentionally. 

He grabbed Mr.Puffin and stuck him back into his cloak before hiding behind one of the chairs that didn’t look like someone had charred the whole cabin. He wanted to pretend that he was not there and was currently skiing somewhere. Anywhere but here. 

“Damn you…” Kageyama snarled out, looking like someone had just blown up the entire cabin, with him in it. 

Fairy gained a bright, cheery smirk, “High punch!” 

“Uh, that emergency stop was a false alarm. We will be departing shortly.” 

“Crap, gotta get outta here!” Fairy started grabbing his stuff, which was unharmed, miraculously.

“Uh, boss? I think he has the right idea.” Mr. Puffin said underneath the cloak. With that, Iceland took no more time and jumped out the window, just in time to see the train move once again. 

“YOSH!” uncharacteristically, Iceland did what Mr. Fairy did moments before. Then, his bright cheery smirk turned into one of undeniable horror, something quite similar to a favorite britt. 

I just...the hell..?

Goddamnit…

Well, I’m outta here. 

Iceland then spun around and stalked in the opposite direction from where the train was headed. He thought he was home free.

Silly Iceland. 

Bad things happen to you all the time. 

Like almost being decapitated by a bunch of people in a magic car. 

Silly, silly, naive Iceland. 

“ERZA! YOU ALMOST Kiiillled that gu--” The blonde’s screeching voice made Iceland seriously wish he landed somewhere normal. Such as his house. 

“Tough Guy, where ya at?” Mr. Puffin yelled from where he was flapping his tiny little wings. Iceland gave the bird a deadpanned glare. Seeing said glare (And not scared of it one bit), the mammal flew over and landed on the boy’s shoulder. 

Together, they decided that they were going to stay as far away from the train tracks as possible, and headed off. 

(Well, Iceland just picked a direction and went for it.)

(Stupid Iceland.) 

 

As it has been said many times before, it shall be said once more. 

Iceland is an idiot. 

Seriously, travelling for three days with the clothes on your back, a bird, and five bronze keys, you would think he would’ve already eaten said bird. 

But said bird is tough as nails and a bitch. Plus, Viking days were coming back to him…  
coming…

coming…

Ah, now they’re gone. 

Time for Boy Scouts! And all those weird-ass camping trips his brothers make him go on. Seriously, who decides that wrestling bears is a good pastime?

Norway. Yeah, we can’t believe it either. 

(So out of character, right?)

Wrapped up nice and cozy with his cloak, Iceland tended to the fire as Mr. Puffin finished off a fish he found somewhere. Five bucks he found it in a lake. 

Iceland, in an odd sense of plot-development, looked at his hand which contained an aching tattoo of three circles. At least during the three days, it decided that it was done being a bitch for the time being and was going to stop hurting. Unfortunately, phantom pains were another thing. 

Fortunately, phantom pains was something he was used to dealing with. Volcanoes anyone?

Iceland looked up into the sky. 

The fuck is going on with that moon? There's a freaking silhouette of something...eh, not my problem.

 

Shit. shit. shit. shit. shit. shit. 

I knew I should have not stolen this horse! 

Oh god, I’m a bad person! 

Iceland turned his hood-covered head around, and saw a huge-ass number of angry villagers following him with pitchforks and torches. 

He looked down at his (stolen) galloping horse. Nice honey-golden colour, long legs, looked like one of those thoroughbreds or jumping horses Sweden always went on about. He’s going to call him Martizeel, Martie for short. 

Shut up! At least he has better naming skills than a certain trigger happy nordic.

Now, how the heck does one keep a hood on oneself while said person is galloping on a speeding horse?

Magic. Duh. 

Iceland is usually someone who does not like riding a horse, but at least this one got him into the woods and away from everyone who were angry at him for stealing a horse and a whole bunch of food and a water skin. And whatever else was on the horse before he borrowed it. 

He’ll check later. 

And man were his legs killing him, just keeping on the horse made im felt like he was getting abs of steel. 

The horse must’ve had a hole shit ton of endurance and before long, the villagers became no more than little ants in the distance. Sadly, Iceland was still berating himself about steeping so low to steal anything and didn’t realise that the sky he had became so used to seeing blue was as dark as the night. 

Also, the horse had stopped running and was now walking in a very slow and steady pace. 

Iceland loosened the reins and gave himself in for a horribly uncomfortable ride.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love it if you'd review!


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